Pretences
by D. Destiny
Summary: Deanna Troi (ST:TNG) ends up in the year 2000 on Earth and meets Jarod (The Pretender) and Rachel (Profiler). *Chapter Four uploaded* Thanks so much for the reviews :) Keep R&R-ing please ;)
1. Prologue

**Pretences**

Author:             D. Destiny

Paring:             Troi, Jarod, Rachel, Malony.

Summary:         Deanna Troi ends up in the year 2000 on Earth.

Crossover with: Star Trek: The Next Generation, The Pretender, Profiler

Note:                When you read this please keep in mind that I will not follow Pretender of Profiler chronology, for I am not aware of that. There fore I simply borrow the characters to create my own story. I've tried to stay true to each character and think I've done quite well J 

Also please remember: this is my first crossover and English is not my native language.

This story will be posted as it is written, therefore there might be some time between one chapter and the next and I can't promise I'll finish, but please nothing is a better motivation than reviews J

**2377, Stardate 57205.9.******

**Betazed-starsystem**.********

What had hit her, she didn't know, all she knew was she had to get the shuttle out of this spin within seconds or a crash would be imminent. As fast as she could muster she punched in new headings and barked out orders at the computer. Over the comm she heard Captain Picard asking her for updates, but there was simply no time to answer. Being the only person aboard the shuttle she just didn't have enough hands to fight the spin. 

Deanna didn't even know what had caused it in the first place and so far the Enterprise hadn't been able to give her a cause either. Even at this distance she could sense the tension and frustration of her friends. Although the Enterprise was close enough to beam her out some kind of invisible force field was preventing them to do so, nor could they lock on a tractorbeam.

A sudden bright flash of light blinded her and then everything around her went black as she lost her consciousness.

**2000, March 21th**

**Earth**

He looked behind him one more time to make sure he had indeed lost them, when ascertained he had Jarod pulled the car over to the side of the road and waited until the adrenaline stopped racing through his veins. No matter how often he managed to escape death or The Centre, he would never get entirely used to it. He stepped out his car to breath in the scent of the woods when suddenly a loud scream caught his attention. The voice was definitely a female's and she was either in a lot of pain, or something had scared her to death.

Driven by his instinct to help others he began to hurry towards the woman. Just when he began to doubt whether he was running into the right direction another scream pierced through the air. Picking up his speed again he pushed away the branches that crossed his path. When he noticed how completely silent it suddenly was he stopped dead in his tracks. 

With his eyes slightly narrowed he scanned every inch of his surroundings. Intellectually he knew there where no dangerous animals living in this part of the forest except for maybe some foxes, but yet for a brief second he feared that a bear maybe had seized the unknown woman. He was again beginning to doubt the direction he had taken when his eyes fell on a piece of purple clothing. Carefully he picked it up and studied it. The purple was of a shade he'd never seen before, a blue-ish glow and the material itself was softer than anything he'd ever felt before.

Given new hope he continued his way until finally he could see the woman he was looking for. How she'd managed he didn't know, but she was lying precisely in the middle of an open spot in the woods. Her back was turned towards him and even in its complete relaxed state her very feminine curves could easily be seen through the purple dress she was wearing. It was however her hair that draw his attention. Incredibly long, black curls were splayed out on the ground. 

When his calling invoked no reaction he slowly encircled her until he could look at her face. Her features were hidden beneath a veil of blood coming from a large gash across her forehead. Her dress was torn and burned on several spots. Jarod kneeled down at her head and carefully stroke several locks of hair away from her head wound before he grabbed his cell-phone, he dialled 911 and explained the operator where he was. He then sat down next to the stranger and covered her torso with his jacket and waited till the ambulance would arrive.


	2. Chapter One

**Pretences**

**Chapter One.******

"Doctor Eskes?" Jarod turned his head towards the voice; it was about time they'd get there.

"Over here!" Mere seconds later two men dressed in bright yellow jackets came from the bushes and hurried over to him. They placed the backboard they were carrying against the woman's back and then proceeded to stabilize her neck before rolling her onto the board. Without wasting any time they picked up the board and began heading back to the road. One of the men whistled appreciatively as he slid his eyes down the woman's body. "Quite a lady, I'd say."

Jarod furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but refrained himself from saying anything. It had been over one and a half hours since he'd found her and god knew how long she had been wandering around before that. Her skin was extremely pale and felt almost too cold against his hands. It wasn't difficult to realize she needed medical attention quickly. 

While the ambulance personnel were installing her in their car he quickly got his stuff out his and then hopped into the back of the ambulance to accompany the stranger. He was going to do everything in his power to get clearance from whatever hospital they would bring her to to treat her, therefore he prepared himself for the role of Doctor Eskes during the hour drive back to the hospital.

=/\=

In the ER the woman who still remained unconscious was quickly examined on internal bleedings, all tests performed by Doctor Eskes. During the ride to the hospital he had quickly created a background story, making sure that when checked the files of the hospital where he supposedly would've worked before would confirm with the papers he was carrying. During the tests he made sure he was the only one to perform them, and the only one to see the results. He had a hunch this woman wasn't just -any- woman. 

While waiting for the results of two of his tests he cleaned her face as well as the wound on her forehead. Once the blood had been washed away the anguish on her features became only too apparent and knocked the air out of him. Knowing that something was causing her an incredible amount of pain he decided to forego the results and order a full series of x-rays and a brainscan.

What they showed was nothing he'd ever seen before. His mysterious woman had only ten pair of ribs, her heart was about one and a half time he size of that of a normal person and her spine had one vertebrae more. The results of her brainscan were impossible! Never had he seen anything like it and from a scientific point of view they simply were not possible, but after doing both tests a second and a third time he had to acknowledge that there were no mistakes made.

She displayed no signs of a head injury, or any other serious injury, yet the anguish and pain on her features remained. To get answers and make absolutely sure she was all right the only option left was to bring her around, preferably without medication. Jarod sat down in a chair at the head-end of her bed and for a second admired her beauty. He then enclosed one of her small hands in one of his and used the other to stroke the side of her head, trying to wake her from her sleep. 

After what seemed like forever he felt a slight movement in his hands and suddenly hers clasped strongly around his as she began tossing her head from side to side. "Pain," she murmured, "such pain." Then switched to a language he'd never heard before, his confusion was however soon forgotten as tears began to stream down her cheeks. With every minute that passed he found out something new about her, but instead of answering his questions, she only became more and more unusual.

He placed his hands on either side of her head in an attempt to calm her. "Miss? Calm down, you're at the hospital. We'll take care of you." But his words didn't reach her and she continued to murmur in the unknown language, which she obviously spoke fluently. "Ma'am? You have to open your eyes." Speaking more forcefully know he seemed to have reached her as she slowly raised her eyelids, allowing him to stare into the darkest pair of eyes he had ever seen.

"Who--who are you?" He smiled at her, hoping to convey his compassion, as well as winning her trust unaware that his patient could sense his intentions very clearly.

"I'm your doctor Miss." Her reaction was not quite like he had expected: her hands flew to his shoulders and grabbed him tightly. "Get me out of here!" She yelled as hard as her voice would allow her. "I'm afraid you can't leave just yet."

"I have to! Please! I can't stand the pain, the fear...the death." Jarod searched his patient's eyes, he could see the pain shining in the black pools and then, as if lightening struck him, he suddenly saw it wasn't her own pain.

Not accustomed to the ancient earth-hospitals Deanna wasn't able to block out the pain as effectively as she could've, had she been in Sickbay on the Enterprise and with each passing second her empathic shields failed a bit more. Where ever she was, she had to get away. "Miss, you might have a head-injury, I can't take the risk of transporting you."

"My mind will heal. I *have* to get away from this place!" Never had he seen eyes so expressive, they bore right into his soul and pleaded him as if she was begging for her life. Despite his better medical knowledge he gave in and nodded. As he went to rent a car and make the necessary arrangements to transport her his mind was swirling with questions. 

No matter how high his IQ the woman seemed illusive, he had found her in the forest, miles away from any town, she carried no means of identification, in fact she had nothing but the clothes she was wearing and a small golden pin. How did she get there? How did she get injured? *Who* was she? Or perhaps a better question would be *what* was she. The results of her tests did definitely not match those of average humans. Perhaps a genetic disorder? Or maybe she had even been genetically manipulated. Perhaps The Centre…no, he couldn't just blame The Centre for every oddity that crossed his path. More so he doubted that even The Centre had the technology to alter a human being to the extend to which she had been altered.

The shock on her face when she stepped out the room worried him. The entire environment seemed completely new to her, as if she'd never seen a hospital before. The shock turned even greater when she stepped out the streets. He decide not to ask anything and walked ahead to the car. Standing next to the door he watched her as she hesitantly stepped down the stairs. Even from this distance she looked definitely out of place; her head jerked from side to side as if she was reacting to every movement around her. Her hair was almost plastered against her head to make sure it would stay out of her face and as she approached him he suddenly realized she was rather small.

"Get me away from this place, please." He noticed the wavering of her voice and saw her winch in pain when she tried to bend her right arm. The shoulder was dislocated, but she hadn't given him the time to set it straight yet. She hadn't given him time to do much of anything actually and for some reason he couldn't manage to stand up against her. However small she might be physically, the way she carried herself, even when injured and in distress, shouted power and regal bearing.

He refrained himself from asking any questions until she seemed to have calmed down a bit which didn't happen until he'd drove out of town all together. She had her eyes closed and her arms were crossed across her chest; a position that should've caused her a great deal of pain due to her dislocated shoulder but there was no outward sign of any pain at all.

With her eyes closed Deanna tried desperately to reinstall her mental shield. After she woke up in the hospital it hadn't taken her long to figure out where she was and when. Having only a limited knowledge of Earth's history she could only guess the time period was somewhere near the second millennium. When she'd awoken inside the shuttle she had believed she'd crashed on a nearby planet, but the vegetation she'd encountered outside hadn't matched the kind indigenous to the Betazed Starsystem. Following protocol she had put as much distance between herself and the shuttle as she could manage, occasionally screaming from pain until eventually the pain became too much to bear and she lost consciousness.

The sudden stop of the car brought her out of the light meditation she'd been in. She opened her eyes and was rewarded with one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen. Framed by lush green bushes and two huge trees was a small wooden cabin, just like Will's only in a green landscape rather than a white one. The man who had been driving the transport vehicle walked around the vehicle and opened the door at her side.

"I hope you'll like it." Was all he said. She could sense his curiosity very clearly, but was very grateful he didn't voice his questions; she wasn't up to answering them yet. She didn't even know what to answer. "I'm sure I will," she replied and accepted his held-out hand. The man radiated trust and calmness and despite her rationale telling her she shouldn't trust him without reservations she did. Docilely she followed him inside and sat down on the couch when he asked her to do so.

"Ma'am, your shoulder has been dislocated; it will have to be popped back." Sensing his intentions she nodded her agreement, then closed her eyes to reinforce her blocks around the pain. Deanna slowly raised her arms and then locked her eyes on those of her rescuer. "You can do it now." Jarod tilted his head slightly, not quite believing he'd heard her correctly. "Do it" she said again, this time more forcefully. Reluctantly he placed his hands in the correct position and looked at her face once again. She nodded almost imperceptible. Keeping his eyes locked onto her face he pushed forward with all his strength until he heard the arm pop back into place.

She didn't even winch. She didn't twitch a muscle or close her eyes, it was as if she had felt no pain at all.


	3. Chapter Two

Standing under the shower Deanna focussed her mind on the sensation of water stroking her skin. It felt almost the same as onboard the Enterprise. Almost, but not quite. Somehow she was stranded on Earth, over four-hundred years in the past. At this moment Betazed's society had just begun seriously exploring their own system and started forming alliances within their sector and the influence of the Houses would be remarkable great.

But she wasn't on Betazed; she was on Earth. Her empathic senses constantly assaulted by the relative rough minds of humans in this time. In the hospital and city it had been the worst; thousands of minds with unruled, unchecked emotions, attacking her senses without mercy.

A sudden jolt of terror from the man in the other room made her jump slightly and she almost slipped, finding her balance just in time. The man's mind was incredibly organized and a welcome beacon in a sea of primitive -at least in her eyes- minds. She could sense his questions burning within him, as well as a touch of nervousness and concern. His mind felt unlike any she had ever encountered. She knew he wasn't a true doctor, but yet at the same time she could also tell he knew exactly what he was doing.

She could tell he knew that she wasn't human, or at least very different from other humans. Never had she felt so out of place as she did now. She wanted to go home, back to the familiar minds of the Enterprise, back to her friends and her job. How could this have happened? A temporal distortion, Q? Without thinking she snapped her fingers, not denying the silliness of the act, but nonetheless hoping it would work.

It didn't

Out of frustration Troi growled and shut the water down. Stepping out of the shower-cell she picked up a towel and began to dry herself. When she was done she realized she had nothing wear. Her dress had been shredded and even when unscathed wasn't considered decent fo humans. Scanning the room her eyes eventually fell on a warm-looking bathrobe and she decided to slip in it. Not knowing what to do with her hair, she left it piled up on top of her head, wrapped in a white towel and headed for the main room.

She was about to enter when she heard his voice. "Sydney, I need you help. Has The Centre ever successfully managed to manipulate a woman?" Silence fell for a moment and Deanna was just about to step inside when he spoke again. "I'm sure you remember her, if you've ever seen her. Intense dark eyes, long dark hair and a pale skin. I think she's around her thirties." Deanna couldn't help but smile; around her thirties. After another short silence it was again Jarod's voice she heard. "Her x-rays and brainscans are unlike anything I've ever seen, she--" This wasn't good, he was going to tell someone else about her. She couldn't allow it.

Jarod turned round as he heard the door open, seemingly calm. The empath however could tell her entrance had startled him. "I have to call you back Sydney, say hi to Miss Parker and tell her I'm sorry I missed her yesterday." She watched him silently as he spoke into a little black thing he held near his ear. As he put the communications device down on the table she took another step in his direction. "I couldn't find anything else to wear," she said, gesturing at the robe she was wearing, "I hope you don't mind."

He studied her for a few seconds in silence and she could almost feel his analytical mind working. Almost like Data, only he was obviously human. "No, of course not." He indicated at a chair and turned to the kitchen. Deanna listened carefully to what he was doing and tried to create a background story for herself. This situation fell, after all, under the Prime Directive.

Jarod returned with a steaming bowl of soup and put it down in front of her, handing her a spoon. With the aroma of the soup reaching her nostrils Troi suddenly realized how starved she was. She hadn't eaten since she'd left Betazed, having a dinner date with Will when she returned to the Enterprise. She began to eat happily, noting it was tomato-soup; not her favourite kind but quite tasty. The doctor sat down across from her and seemed quite content with watching her eat. It wasn't long before he started asking questions though.

"Are you feeling all right? Any nausea or dizziness?" Deanna answered negative and pointedly returned her attention to her soup. "Are you sure? Because your brainscans were extremely unusual." 

I bet, Troi thought to herself..how was she ever going to explain? Perhaps he would buy the story if she told him she was genetically manipulated. She was quite certain he would because that had been the first thing he had thought off, but being Betazoid lying went against her principles. "It runs in the family" she replied eventually, without having to lie.

Again he studied her carefully, not quite believing what she said. "I'm Jarod" he told her, and held out his hand. Fighting the urge to sigh relieved Deanna smiled and shook Jarod's hand.

"Deanna Troi."

"Good, you remember your name. Do you know where you are?" 

"Earth," Deanna replied automatically. Then, seeing his quizzical expression, she tried to be more specific. If she recalled correctly there were only a few countries in this period of Terran history in which Standard was the main language, the biggest of which being the Western Continent, and so that was what she answered.

Jarod's suspicion of her grew, but he held his question back for now. "What's the date?" he continued.

"I don't know."

"The year?" Again Troi shook her head and hoped he would tell her, which he did. "March twenty-first, two thousand." She managed to keep her shock to herself, but only barely. 2000?! That meant she'd travelled 377 years into the past. "I think we'd better get you home, where are you from?" He asked as if it were but an afterthought. 

Very sneaky Jarod. Of course he had no idea he was dealing with an accomplished psychologist, as well as an empath. "Not from around here." She answered truthfully.

"I thought as much. The language I heard earlier was unlike any I've ever heard before. I've never seen such black eyes either." Damned, he was determined to find out who she was! Protocol dictated she should get away from him as soon as she could, but without knowing where to find her shuttle and without clothing or means to pay, she really couldn't go anywhere. 

So, instead of running scrambling for an answer she merely gazed into his hazel eyes and yawned.

Chapter Two

Jarod threw the sleeping form on his bed one last glance; this Deanna Troi had an air of mystery around her and not just because he knew nothing about her. To him she seemed as if she'd run from a fairy tale; her face in a relaxed and serene expression; frames by masses of black curls. Only in fairy tales the princesses were always blond and blue eyed.

He shook his head and returned to the table on which the phone stood. Quickly he dialled Sidney's number, anxious to see if he could tell him anything about the woman's origin. He wasn't sure if she knew she hadn't fooled him with her evasive answers, she seemed the kind of person who could give you very little information and yet make it seem as if she shared her life with you.

"Sydney."

"Jarod." The man on the other end of the line greeted in return. "What did you mean earlier?"

"I meant what I said" he returned coolly; that Sydney couldn't fathom what he'd meant wasn't a good sign...at all "a female, about five foot three, coal black eyes and hair, pale skin, around her thirties, she calls herself Deanna Troi and has the most unusual brainscans and x-rays I've ever seen." He listened quietly and heard his former mentor tick in the information on his keyboard. He resisted the urge to drum with his fingers on the table and glanced over to the room in which his latest hobby stood; a $20.000 drumstel.

"No matches, Jarod are you sure the scans were correct."

"Of course I'm sure." Without allowing Sydney to respond he broke off the connection; he may consider the older man as his friend, he did entirely trust him yet. It was possible that The Centre had erased all traces of her existence if she had managed to disappear, but why wasn't she being hunted like himself? 

On the other hand he realized he really wasn't the one to expect any answers; he never gave them himself. Putting the mysterious woman out of his mind Jarod turned on his computer and started to brows through the news sites, looking for someone he might be able to help.


	4. Chapter Three

**Pretences******

**Chapter**** Three**

From behind his desk Sydney watched Miss Parker and Broots enter the room, true to her tradition, Parker's face was edged in anger and frustration. Sometimes he wondered why they were still trying to catch Jarod after all these years, it wasn't like they were ever going to succeed. They didn't want to either. Or perhaps they did, but not as badly as they used to. Parker used to smash objects when they'd failed, but now she merely grumbled and then went home. Perhaps the only reason they were still after Jarod was because they were used to and to make sure the Triumvate didn't assign another team to the task.

"Five minutes, we missed him by five minutes." He knew better than to respond to her short lived tirade and instead motioned Broots to take place behind the terminal. It was good to see the man wasn't as shy and skittish as he used to be, even though he never seemed totally at ease.

"Jarod called" he explained the questioning looks of his team mates, "he wants us to search for information about a genetically modified woman; thirty, thirty-five years and black eyes and hair." The computer genius nodded enthusiastically and began the search, Parker on he other hand, growled and started pacing.

"I don't get it, we're supposed to hunt him. Why do we help him?"

"Because we want the truth about The Centre, and admit it Parker; you wouldn't know what to do without him." Sydney hid his smile as he could nearly see steam coming out her ears.

=/\=

Deanna woke from a familiar scent teasing her nostrils and rolled onto her side, her muscles objecting even to that simple movement. As she sat upright the slight headache she still had increased for a moment, causing a wave of dizziness to roll over her. She groaned slightly but stood up anyway, grateful when her headache diminished to but a dull throbbing. It wasn't until she started to look for her clothes that she realized what had happened and she had to fight hard to hold back her tears. It had been the first night she'd slept alone in over three months and she missed Will already.

Having nothing to wear she slid back into the robe she'd worn the previous night and walked into the living room. She found Jarod in the small kitchen and wrinkled her nose as the scent of scrambled eggs assaulted her senses. Her host turned and smiled invitingly "want some?"

"No thanks, I've never developed a taste for it."

"It is quite tasty" he muttered while chewing.

"That's what Will said." She recalled. He had tried to make her eat it the first time they'd lunched together onboard the Enterprise.

"Will?"

_Smart move Deanna,_ she chided herself. "Erm…he's a friend." He was. Will had been her friend ever since they'd met again onboard the Enterprise, and even now that they were engaged –again—he was still first and for most her best friend. 

"Well, perhaps you should call him, to tell him you're okay." 

_Oh you're smart_. "I-uh, he's…out of reach." Sometimes she hated the ethical Betazoid standard of being truthful, she really didn't like lying, but at times it could be handy.

"Miss Troi, no one is unreachable on this planet." 

_Unless they're three hundred and something years in the future_ Deanna added silently. "Deanna, please." She corrected him "and he really can't be reached."

"I'm sorry. He isn't dead yet is he?"

Technically he wasn't even born yet, none of her loved ones were. "I'm alone." She suddenly realized. Truly, wholly alone. There wasn't a person on this planet she knew, save for the man who had found her. Tears formed now that she understood the full scope of her situation; she had no idea where she was, or where her shuttle was and even if she could find the shuttle she doubted she had enough engineering skills to get it flying again. She had no friends, no people who could help and was cut of from her very culture. Jarod was the only person she knew and he was bent on finding out who she was and where she came from…what could she do? She hardly knew anything about this period on Earth, if only Will was there with her…if only.

Jarod watched the dance of emotions on his visitor's face; they changed from sudden realization to shock and to despair and then she began to cry. Acting on instinct he reached around and laid his arm around her shaking shoulders. She dropped her head into her hands, tossing her long curls forward. At the base of her skull he could see an intricate, black tattoo of little symbols unlike he had ever seen before. He couldn't link the tattoo to The Centre directly but decided to run it through the databases anyway. He wasn't normally so bent on finding out who someone was or where they came from, but the skeletal make up of this woman and her brainscans…it was a mystery he couldn't resist. "I'm alone" she stated again.

"I know what it's like" he admitted as he returned to his seat. "I know what it's like to be alone" Jarod clarified at Deanna's confused expression "to come home to an empty place time after time after time." With her mind focussed on that of the man in front of her, Deanna could tell just how lonely he really was. He seemed happy, and he was, yet the loneliness he felt was eating at his heart. Somehow, she thought, his spirit had recognized a kindred spirit in her own.

"Don't you have family?"

"I was taken from my family when I was very young. I have been trying to find them for what seems like forever." 

"That's awfull," she blurted, reaching out to touch his hand, "what about your friends?"

"Friends…" Jarod repeated dreamily "I guess I could say I have a handful of them." A wry smile curled itself around his lips and he added "albeit in a love/hate relationship."

"How so?" Unbidden, Troi found herself slipping into Counselor-mode and drawing comfort from her profession.

"Let's say that they like to hunt me and I like to pull jokes on them." The Betazoid could sense that there was more truth behind the statement that Jarod wanted her to know, but she decided not to push further. "What do you do for a living?"

A subtle way to change the subject, but she didn't mind, she was done with remembering friends that weren't there. "I'm a psychologist." She answered truthfully, keeping track of his emotions. Usually people felt somewhat uncomfortable around a psychologist, even in the twenty-fourth century. Jarod however, only showed fond amusement.


	5. Chapter Four

I'm so sorry that it took so long before I'd finished this part, but well, I'm still recovering from FedCon *g* And thank you so much for the reviews :) They mean a lot, especially since this is my first try at non-TNG fanfiction ;) *makes happy noises*

**Pretences**

**Chapter Four**

**2000, March 24th**

**Earth**

With her arms crossed in front of her chest Deanna Troi stared at her new wardrobe. Jarod had bought the clothes the day before, not quite understanding why his guest refused to accompany him. He had done a wonderful job; none of the clothes were like anything she'd normally wear, save for a handful of dresses, but none of the clothes appalled her either. Troi checked her appearance one more time and then headed out to living area.

"I wish there was someway to pay you back." She said quietly, drawing a genuine smile from her savior.

"Don't worry about it, it isn't my money anyway."

It was amazing really, how little they knew about each other and yet they trusted each other. Deanna couldn't shake of the feeling that Jarod was as lost as she. She circled around him so that she could look onto the screen he held in front of him. 

Her eyes fell on a young boy, obviously the center of whatever footage he was watching. "Why would someone do this Sydney?" The view shifted to a man standing left of the boy, "you tell me Jarod." He almost ordered the boy. The child walked over to a table, studying the photo's laying upon it. 

A gasp of horror left Deanna's throat as she saw the mutilated bodies on the picture. "My god! Who would do something like that?!"

"Someone very angry and hurt." Young Jarod answered her.

=/\=

_Keep running! No! Don't look back! _She tried to yell at the young woman, urge her to keep moving as fast as she could, hoping that somehow she could help her escaping the beast following her. But her voice didn't reach above a whisper and the girl kept looking over her shoulder. _Don't be a fool! There was no use in looking back! Why didn't the girl just focus on running? Determined to help her, she kept her eyes on the somewhat illuminated yellow hair of the prey. __Run!_

The hunter was closing in on his barefooted prey and suddenly she realized something; the hunter wasn't hunting at all: he was playing. He was doing nothing more than giving the blonde woman the illusion that she had a chance to escape from him. _Oh my God!_ By the way to woman's pace slowed and faltered it was easy to see she was getting tired and the observer could almost feel the stalkers anticipation rise.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere another woman appeared at the perimeter of her vision, her face a center of light among black curls. She seemed to take a couple of seconds to review the situation, and then reached out to the staggering girl. This new woman seemed invisible to the hunted, for she showed no sign of seeing the held out hand. Amazingly enough the running woman seemed to regain her balance completely and she took off at a greater and steadier pace than before. _Good girl! Keep going!_

She could swear feeling the hunters surprise and then annoyance as he too sped up his movements. The man was however better conditioned and their horror, he caught up with the blonde woman easily.

"No!!!" A loud voice suddenly ripped through the air, the first sound she had heard since the start of her observation of the terrifying scene. "Please! Don't hurt her!" But neither the hunter, nor his prey heard the voice.

The woman with the blonde hair was on her back now, scurrying away from her attacker. Even though she should be able to see him clearly now, the hunter remained cloaked in darkness. All she could see was the knife he held and the cuts he inflicted with it.

Her eyes flew back to the other observer when the victim twisted her body in such an angle that she seemed to be looking directly at the dark-haired stranger. To her complete amazement, her counterpart responded by whispering alien words. The words were repeated over and over again, forming an unfamiliar, yet comforting chant. But while the alien words strengthened and comforted the victim, tears streamt down the pale complexion of the woman who chanted them.

And then, with a swipe of the knife it ended.

"Rachel? Rachel? Are you all right?" Slowly the world –the real world—swam back into existence, embodied by concerned eyes of Malony. It took her longer than normal to recover from the flashback, and judging by the expressions of those around it had lasted longer than normal as well. Not to mention, it had been a lot clearer and precise than usual; almost as if her gift was been magnified by something…or someone.

=/\=

Horrified by what she had observed, Deanna Troi sank into the couch, unintentionally ignoring Jarod's questions. What she had seen was terrifying! Never had she experienced anything like it. The horror and fear of the blonde woman still run through her veins, even now she knew that that woman had been killed. What a horrible way to die!

Through the fear and revulsion raging inside of her, she could feel Jarod's alarm and fiercely wished it was Will who was with her. Will would've been able to help her regain her emotional balance through the bond that tied his soul to hers. She pictured his blue eyes sparkling at her, a stubborn lock of brown hair hanging just above it, unwilling to fall into place among the others. His strong jaw lines covered by a prickly beard and his soft, but very skilled lips, hidden beneath the fur. {I miss you} She tried to send to him, despite knowing the futility of the attempt.

Amazingly enough, just thinking about him chased away most of the dark feelings she had absorbed and she was able to look at Jarod without the terror showing in her eyes. "Are you all right?" He questioned eventually. Had she been asleep, he'd have thought she was having a nightmare, but they'd been talking when suddenly she jerked in her chair and zoomed out. Not long after that tears started falling from her black eyes and she'd started chanting alien words.

"Yes, yes, I'm all right."

"What happened?"

Troi opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it as she couldn't find the words to describe what her culture called _M'nai_ –a travel of the mind. "It, erm, it happens sometimes."

"It doesn't seem a very nice experience." _Oh, it can be Troi grinned to herself. "What is it like?" _He's not giving up this time_, she realized with a tightening in her stomach; the Prime Directive had to be preserved at all costs. "I had this friend once," Jarod spoke before she could reply, "she worked at the FBI and had this special…gift…that caused her to receive flashes of things that happened or would happen when she touched some items belonging to a witness or suspect."_

"Tkil'h" Deanna blurted before she could stop herself. "Touch tele-vision." 

The Pretender considered the term for a while, then nodded in agreement. "Do you have the same gift?"

And the perfect cover provided itself just in time; Troi had to bit back a strong sigh of relief. "Something like that yes."

"So what did you see?"

=/\=

Pacing did nothing to relieve her frustration, it never had and it never would, so why was she pacing? She listened carefully to the click-clack sounds her heels made on the cold floor her mind already working on how to trace Jarod's steps…again.

They had been so close to catching him, hell, she'd held him at gunpoint several times and yet he got away time and time again. She should be frustrated, angry, mad as hell, but instead she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of relief. And was that so wrong? She had been faithful to the Centre, or in the very least her father, and look where it had gotten her. Her mother killed, her brother killed, Thomas killed, she could only wonder who was next?

"Oh my god" She recognized the tone immediately and she had worked with the man long enough to know that it wasn't a positive one, or even just a shocked one.

"What?"

Sydney could only point at the screen in front of him. Memories tumbled through his mind, triggered by the report of a murder case on the TV. "It can't be," he mumbled, "he is dead…we killed him!"

Parker's eyes shifted from her partner to the screen and she had to bite back a vomiting reflex when she saw the mutilated body of a blonde woman. Someone had use a knife to kill her…very thoroughly and the words "I'm back" had been carved across her torso and stomach, blood seeping from the letters written in flesh.


End file.
